


the beautiful trap

by brandywine421



Category: Daredevil (TV), Titans (TV 2018)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Friends With Benefits, Friendship, M/M, References to Depression
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-06
Updated: 2020-12-10
Packaged: 2021-03-09 19:33:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27911569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brandywine421/pseuds/brandywine421
Summary: "My boss, well, it's complicated but - the guy I'm training under wants me to learn how to 'disappear'."  He threads those thin fingers through Matt's and - God, he's so easy for dangerous ones.Dick takes a sip of coffee and Matt maps the swallow.  This is something private, something real."It's like he knows when I get that itch - like I'm going to claw my skin off, punch the bag until my knuckles bleed, run until I faceplant on the treadmill - because sometimes I'm, kind of, wound up.  He'll give me an envelope of cash and tell me 'get out of town'.  Gave me a two day head start the first time, had me tracked in hours - ""So he's holding you captive?  What's he grooming you for?" Matt asks.  "Do you need - "Dick squeezes his fingers and he bites back the offer.  "You're sweet, but, it's not like that.  I'm just telling you because I don't want to do a walk of shame and ditch you without explanation.""If you're learning how to not leave a trail, you should," Matt points out.
Relationships: Dick Grayson/Matt Murdock
Comments: 8
Kudos: 81





	1. Chapter 1

_if you open up too much, people can fall in and hurt themselves_  
_'the beautiful trap' - pleasefindthis_

  
He has delicate, thin fingers. The kind that fit perfectly around a blade, around his wrists, curled around his thigh.

"You like to touch," he said, sliding his hands down Matt's back, over the bumps of his spine.

"Like to taste, too," Matt whispers and he bares his throat, permission to drift from his mouth to his neck, his pulse - hot and steady and - he inhales when Matt strums a chord across his ribs.

He's still riled up from the whiskey and the dirty pool and glorious bar brawl that followed and this guy - well, this guy has moves. Long, lithe, and utterly controlled with the cue as pool shark or fighting stick, well, he's pushing all of Matt's buttons.

He arches his back against Matt's searching hands and brackets his face with those mad fingers. Matt knows this part - he's going to ask if he's really blind.

"I'm gonna take you apart," he says instead, kissing him deep and - finally - letting Matt taste - 

* * *

"This is a test," Dick confesses the next morning, placing a paper cup of expensive black coffee near his hand.

"Shit," Matt sighs, clenching his fists and preparing to fling the coffee he really needed right now in the secret ninja's face - 

"Nothing to do with you," he laughs and - Matt believes him. "My boss, well, it's complicated but - the guy I'm training under wants me to learn how to 'disappear'." He threads those thin fingers through Matt's and - God, he's so easy for dangerous ones.

Dick takes a sip of coffee and Matt maps the swallow. This is something private, something real.

"It's like he knows when I get that itch - like I'm going to claw my skin off, punch the bag until my knuckles bleed, run until I faceplant on the treadmill - because sometimes I'm, kind of, wound up. He'll give me an envelope of cash and tell me 'get out of town'. Gave me a two day head start the first time, had me tracked in hours - "

"So he's holding you captive? What's he grooming you for?" Matt asks. "Do you need - "

Dick squeezes his fingers and he bites back the offer. "You're sweet, but, it's not like that. I'm just telling you because I don't want to do a walk of shame and ditch you without explanation."

"If you're learning how to not leave a trail, you should," Matt points out.

"I'd rather tell you enough truth to keep you in my bed as long as possible," Dick admits. "If you're interested."

Is he interested? Dick kisses their laced knuckles. Fuck. "I don't have class again 'til Tuesday morning."

"Check-out's not 'til three."

* * *

"Heya, Bruce," Dick says, dropping into the seat beside him in the Batcave.

Bruce blinks at him, the closest to surprise he'll get but he's taking the win.

He reaches over and squeezes the older man's shoulder. "Thank you."

"I didn't find you," Bruce says.

"Doesn't matter. I found something better. I want - I'm ready to talk about San Francisco."

Bruce never mentions the black eye or the love bites or the late night calls. Once he enrolls in college in California instead of the police academy, he doubts Bruce ever thinks about the field trip again.

* * *

"You lost?"

Bruce snaps around and searches the roof for the voice, pinpointing a corner of shadows.

"You're an idiot if you think I'd answer your request for help in my real name, I mean, you of all people should know better," Murdock says, stepping out of a different set of shadows. Bastard's better than he expected. 

The guy's only a couple of years older than Dick, working on a law degree with a shit-ton of personal baggage but still finds the time to track the mafia traffic and local gutter game. Bruce respects him, but probably not for the same reason Dick does.

"You're wearing a cape like a superhero, did you already take your shot with them?" Murdock asks.

"Robin trusts you, I didn't take it anywhere else. Not even to him," Bruce adds.

"I'm his friend, not his contact," Murdock says.

Bruce doesn't want to cross any more lines when Dick's already drawn so many in the sand between them. "This is your city, not ours."

"Huh. Lose the cape and follow me."

* * *

"Are you still in touch with Dick?" Bruce asks when he's dropping Matt off outside his dorm.

"Why, your tracking chip acting up?"

Ouch. "Does he - "

"I didn't tell him, but I know you didn't put it in until he beat you at hide and seek," Matt says. "Your family issues aren't my business and whether you intended it or not, you **were** family."

He doesn't slam the door when he leaves, but hell, he doesn't have to. Friend, not contact. Ally.

Bruce may have crossed the wrong line.

* * *

"He's different than I thought he would be," Foggy says when Dick's gone with their lunch order. They're still too new at Landmann and Zach to dare missing a call by leaving for lunch and Dick's - Dick's been in town for a week with no exit planned.

Garth and Jericho are losses that Dick's not going to get over soon, if ever. Matt's not sure - _hell_.

Matt's working on it, okay. "How do you mean?"

"I assumed he was another one of your friends with benefits, but - he's actually a friend," Foggy says. "He seems to think you have your shit together."

"Definitely not the last part," Matt scoffs. "We just have - similar ways of dealing with our down cycles."

"Sex addiction is still addiction," Foggy points out.

"It's not like that."

Foggy taps his arm. "I'm still your best friend, right? He doesn't know more of your secrets than I do, right?"

"Of course, Fogs, nobody knows me better than you," Matt says. 

* * *

"Shit, let him up," Dick says, darting out of the command room toward the elevator.

"Who is that?" Hank yells after him.

He wants to snarl that it's none of his business, Matt is nobody's business but Dick's - but he holds back, knowing its unwarranted - but Matt sets his intensity level up to twelve. Dick doesn't want to share him - it's too important, he's too important - 

The elevator finally opens and he steps in, taking in Matt's slumped form against the wall, swallowed in a hoodie too big for him. "Matt - hey." He slides his arms around him and doesn't need to ask if he's all right because he's not - something - he's broken. Shattered like all those times Dick washed up on his roof or in his office.

"Are you in danger? Are you hurt?" Dick whispers urgently when Matt shivers against his hold. It's California, why is he freezing?

"I left before the funeral. Nothing - I've got nothing left. Fucked it all up, for good this time and - she's dead. I - I can't - " Matt murmurs. "Never been on a plane - been throwing up for hours."

"I got you," Dick says, picking up the sparse gym bag and keeping an arm around his friend's waist.

Dawn, Kori and Rachel are away so he only has to contend with Hank and Gar meeting his secret and he trusts them to fuck off until he can figure this out. Funeral. Fuck.

"What do you need?" Hank asks in a low voice as he maneuvers Matt's dead weight out of the elevator.

"Make sure he wasn't followed and that he's not here, never here," Dick says and his friend nods in understanding.

Matt tucks deeper into the hoodie and Dick can't take it, pushing the fabric back to see his mussed hair and sunken, listless eyes. No glasses - baring his weakness for all and - Dick can't take it, dropping his bag and steering him down the hall.

"Shower, then - wow, first aid - then you can rest, can you - " Dick plans aloud as he unzips the hoodie and strips his t-shirt off. "Shit, Matt - "

Matt steps out of his pants - sweatpants, oh Matt - and moves forward to lay his hands on Dick's shoulder, shaking and raw with cuts and wounds. "Please don't make me talk about it."

Dick cups his chin and shakes it. "Matt."

"I wish I was dead, I wish - "

Dick shoves him into the shower in his underwear, following him into the stall fully clothed and switching it on. He waits until Matt's fully doused to shake him again. "Murdocks always get up, isn't that what you told me? Even when they know they're beat - especially then - "

"Not this time," Matt says, leaning his face against the tile and letting the water and the words roll over him.

No - Matt always picks Dick up when he's down, when he's mad at the world and life and the God that Matt puts his trust in - Matt always drags him off the edge - this, this is all wrong.

* * *


	2. Chapter 2

"How do you know each other?" Gar asks, voice bright with curiosity.

Matt pauses his mapping of the strange apartment, still not sure about that fantastical fake fireplace. He can hear Dick and Hank in the computer room. "How old are you again? Don't know what he uses as his cover story," Matt decides, giving the strange kid the benefit of the doubt.

"Sixteen. He says you're an old friend but not from Gotham."

All true. "I met him when I was in college. I was a scholarship kid, went out to hustle up a pool game for quick cash and picked the wrong mark," Matt says.

Gar laughs. "You tried to scam Dick?"

"He pinged on pretty quickly and covered my con and when the inevitable fight broke out - he had my back."

Dick's heartbeat fills the space and fuck his brain, but Matt feels immediately calmer. He'll always envy the guy's steady control no matter the cost of it. "Hey. How long have you been up?"

"I hate your apartment, you know how I feel about touchscreens," Matt replies.

"Yeah, yeah, hate my sheets, hate the way the air tastes, hate the world, I know," Dick says, pressing a chaste kiss to his forehead to distract him from being steered to a seat.

"Kid makes good coffee," Matt concedes, accepting the mug he'd abandoned to feel out the new space.

"He was telling me how you saved him from a barfight," Gar says.

Dick laughs. "I didn't save him from shit, we started that fight together. He was a mystery I had to solve and here we are, ten years later still trying to figure our shit out."

"Wow, that long?" Hank whistles.

"He's always had a couch, or a bed, for me to crash in when I didn't have anywhere to go," Dick says. "He's one of the few friends I made on my own."

"Orphans with anger issues gotta stick together," Matt nods. He taps the scar on Dick's forearm. "Good to see that thing's finally gone."

"Asshole," Dick snorted. "Of course your radar ears would know about it - why - "

"Your daddy issues are none of my business," Matt says. He take a swallow of coffee. "Stick's been around. One of the reasons I didn't stay for the funeral."

Dick's heartbeat stutters but he doesn't make any outward reaction. "He was calling the shots the whole time?"

"Partially. Had Ellie on his leash. She died for me."

"You wouldn't have been in danger of dying if it wasn't for her," Dick hisses.

Matt stands up abruptly and regrets it with a wash of dizziness. "You don't understand - it - she loved me back - it - it wasn't a trick - "

"Sentimental bastard - " Dick growls, pulling him back down to the couch and holding him in place. "It's not supposed to be all or nothing, Matt. You shouldn't have to give up everything just to - "

"Lost the biggest case of my career, lost the law firm, lost my best friend - nothing else to lose - " Matt rambles.

"Good thing you're here, we know all about second chances, and third and fourth," Gar says.

Matt stops fighting Dick's grip and frowns. "I hate it here."

"No you don't," Dick whispers.

* * *

"Matt's a good fit, but - you know we can't keep him," Hank says, passing him a soda. 

Dick sighs. "I know."

"Do the kids? Because Gar and Rach are getting a little attached, and that's not mentioning Dawn and Kori," Hank adds.

"You like him, too."

Hank shrugs. "Yeah. But the guy's a lawyer, he's not cut out for full time hero-ing when he's so hung up on law and order. Reminds me of you in Detroit, made real detective, trying to give up the mask."

"It seemed like a good idea at the time. Cut ties, start over," Dick says.

"Is it a good idea for Matt, though?" Hank asks.

"Probably," Matt answers, walking in looking tasty in Dick's sparring sweats and wearing the expensive sunglasses he let the girls pick for him. Dick doesn't think he fucked up too badly considering he's got Matt up to a meal and a half a day and liquor only after dark - and he's been sleeping, a little, at least. They both sleep better when they're fucked out and Dick's doing his best.

"I should probably sign up to take the California bar, or find a nice boring corporate gig in finance," Matt continues, sinking onto the stool beside him at the counter. "But Hell's Kitchen is home and - I can't walk away."

"You turned that phone on yet?" Dick asks.

Matt smiles, shy. "Yeah. Talked to Fogs, told him about Elektra."

"Wait, he didn't know - " But he doesn't finish. Matt's too much like him, he knows he would have kept that grief to himself.

"We haven't talked for a while. He went by my apartment, changed the sheets and the locks for me. And I ran into an - acquaintance - a few nights ago at the pier and he's going to give me a lift home so I don't have to fly."

"An acquaintance?" Dick picks out.

"Most of my ex-girlfriends end up dead or hating my guts, but my ex-boyfriends usually answer my calls if I need them," Matt says, leaning his head on Dick's shoulder. "Wade always needs a good lawyer and he promised to let me drive in Kansas."

Dick sighs over Hank's shocked laugh. "We're sticking you with a tranq and taking the jet."

"Don't you dare."

* * *

Dick doesn't bother calling when he crosses into Hell's Kitchen. He doesn't want to wake the kids when they're actually sleeping. Nobody's been sleeping lately, not with - without - without Donna. Rachel's absence is easier, he hopes, for Gar with Connor's adaptable friendship. Hank and Dawn aren't fighting as much as orbiting each other in sad loops but he'll take it since they're sticking around. They were friends first, they all were and maybe - maybe. Kori's distance, and resulting absence is harder and he hates that he depends on her so much.

Hasn't he learned anything from Bruce?

"Oh. I get it," Rose says, without moving her gaze from the window in the backseat.

"Get what?" He should have known she wouldn't sleep now.

"Your friend, he's the Devil of Hell's Kitchen. Dad wasn't a fan," she says - no, Jericho says. Dick forgets - he can't believe he forgets.

"You don't sleep as much because - I'm stupid," Dick blurts out.

She - no, Jericho - smiles at him. "She's resting, and I'd much rather be in charge when I can enjoy things and not fight." The smile dims. "And she knows I spent more time with Donna - and I'm worried about you."

"I'll be all right. I didn't want to just up and leave so soon after - everything, but - "

"You need to bang it out while you don't have a significant other," Jericho grins - because that's his smile.

"And he's been on your mind since you found out he was wanted for murder," Hank yawns.

"Tried to steal your whole 'get depressed and arrested' vibe," Dawn adds from the back. "Men are ridiculous."

He pulls up to the hotel and helps everyone unload the SUV before the valet takes it away. Once everyone's standing and stable, he allows himself to look up.

He spots the silhouette, barely a shadow perched on a fire escape three blocks out. No cape, no horns, but a familiar tilt of the head.

Dick smiles.

"Go, we'll catch up with you tomorrow," Hank says.

* * *

They tangle their wounds, smashing their bruises together and smearing the room with desperation and rage and grief until they're both out of breath.

It's not about the sex, it really isn't - it's more than that - it's always been more than that.

Matt tells him about the hallucinations - his father, his enemy, his priest - while Dick suckles hickies to parallel a raw scar on his collarbone. Dick laughs and says he's been listening to Imaginary Bruce for years. 

Dick tells him about the endless list of misfires and mistakes - Jason and Jericho and Robin and - while Matt burns lanes across his back with his unshaven beard. Matt laughs and says he's been fucking up lives since conception.

It's not about the sex, it's about the rest of it.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! There was supposed to be more, with Foggy harassing the Titans for choosing Hell's Kitchen as a vacation spot, but i'm so tired and - <3 Thanks for reading!

**Author's Note:**

> I know absolutely jack shit about Batman or comics but I thoroughly enjoyed the first 2 seasons of the Titans. Thanks, HBO Max! Dick Grayson has just the right flavor mix of manpain for me to give this pairing a shot _(in the dark, for real, I know shit about Batman.)_


End file.
